


I Never Drop My Sword

by come_on_eileen



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, Spells & Enchantments, Watford
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8858227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/come_on_eileen/pseuds/come_on_eileen
Summary: I almost didn’t get any sleep last night. I was too excited thinking over and over about the new spell, that Aunt Fiona gave me. "This one will finish him, I promise" she told me and I saw her eyes full of evil excitement and vice, while mine (I know for certain) were exactly the same.I will finally win after all, I will win after all the damage he made by just being him, being Mage’s Heir, being The One, being Simon fucking Snow.





	1. The Spell

"I will kill Simon Snow. I will kill him today." I say slowly to my reflection in the mirror, watching as my mouth forms shapes that come out as fully-fledged words. They give me satisfaction, as if one has taken a knife and finally craved all his sorrows with a blade right over his hand.

I examine my eyes, they are hollow, just the way they always are; I see my pale face, it makes me sick because it's grey and dead. I am _dead_.

I almost didn’t get any sleep last night. I was too excited thinking over and over about the new spell, that Aunt Fiona gave me. "This one will finish him, I promise" she told me and I saw her eyes full of evil excitement and vice, while mine (I know for certain) were exactly the same.

I will _finally_ win after all, I will win after all the damage he made by just being him, being Mage’s Heir, being The One, being Simon fucking Snow.

If only I had enough magic for that spell. Fiona is probably powerful enough to make it work, but it doesn't matter because we both know that I should be the one to conjure it.

First of all it is easier for me because I am around Snow every fucking day. Also, it’s me who hates him enough to cast the spell, and I will cast it, no matter how difficult it is. I will find a way.

I put my shirt on, automatically doing one button after another till my collar is tight around my neck just the way I have it every day. I love clothes because they help me look less like a _shadow_. Less like a reflection.

Less like somebody who could be excited over a thought that he could hurt someone.

When I step out into our room the first thing I see is _him_. (No wonder, yeah, because we are roommates and we are tied together by this fucking curse and it is the last year and soon there will be no Simon Snow in my life anymore. I know, I know).

My neighbour is sitting on his bed, hiding his face in his hands. There is something in his pose that gives him away, at least gives him away to _me_. He is miserable. Grey morning light falls over him, his shoulders are shaking and he is sobbing, and for a moment my heart shrinks, I imagine a parallel universe where I am somebody else, somebody who can cheer him up, somebody who have the power to bring a smile on his face, somebody who can actually _talk_ to him.

And then it's over, the moment he lifts his head, and his eyes just slightly slide over me with a familiar hint of automatic disgust, but mostly they are empty. I am nothing to him, just a tiny annoying detail somewhere on a far away background of his epic life. He turns away and it's like he didn't see me at all, like I don't even exist. Well, he is right, I am not sure I do _exist_ either.

I know why he is sad. It has been going on for a few weeks already, just from the day his dearest Agatha dumped him. What a fucking tragedy. It makes me sick, I mean it. And it also makes me _so_ mad.

"Shut the window." I strain through my clenched teeth. It's like this moron always leaves the window open, just to piss me off. Although it would be too much of a plan for our dull relationship, the truth is that he mostly just doesn't care. At all.

"What." He looks at me and again there is only emptiness in his eyes. (Yes, I do not exist).

"Shut. The. Fucking. Window." I repeat one more time feeling anger slowly spreading inside me, going wider, wider and wider. Till I can't control it any more. I feel my arm squeezing the wand and then I shout the spell. Not _that_ one, I am not so stupid as to forget about the anathema. It's just **_"Gone with the wind"_ ** but I put so much anger in it, that the wind slams the windows shut with a dreadful sound, enough to make Snow shudder.

"Freak." He spits out. His eyes are glued to mine. (Can he see me now?) "Why are you always such a _freak_?"

It almost feels like a slap. That's what I am. A disgrace, an empty spot. A _freak_. Nothing more. That is when I usually shut up and just turn my back, because who cares what this idiot thinks (not me). But not today. Today I have a secret power, I have the _spell_. Even though I am not ready yet, but it is with me and it still makes me strong. Strong enough to be over him. Enough to raise my head high and say very calmly:

"At least I am a freak, who has a father."

He clutches his jaw, first he just pales, then there are red dots spreading over his cheeks.

"And does your father know that you are a vampire?" He makes an attempt to hurt me, but I am bulletproof to this old you-are-the-vampire game. I just shrug. I can't stop staring at him. _Those_ eyes. They are wild with anger and magic. And soon everything dwells on it.

I know him well enough to understand: he can _go off_ this very moment _._ I can hardly breathe because his magic is so strong that it overwhelms everything.

"At least he _admits_ that he is my father." It's such a pleasure to see my words destroy him. He clenches his fists, but then just jumps up and rushes out of the room. Good, he is sane enough to remember that anathema will kick his ass if he will goes off near me.

I take a deep breath. Magic leaves with him and I miss it (I miss him) the moment it disappears. I can admit; it's addictive, even for me, even though I don't give a damn about Snow and his stupid powers.

And well, I wasn't telling a lie: everyone knows that the Mage is Simon father. It is the only explanation of _everything_. Of him being here, I mean, god he is so awkward with his spells, no one would ever let him close to Watford in old times. Not my Mum, no.

That's why he hates me so much: because I do belong here and he knows he doesn't. The worst thing is that he also _knows_ that Mage must be his father and he knows that he doesn't care enough to admit it. What the fucking hell. That is even more fucked up then me and my father, who mostly doesn't speak and passes his forever disappointment in me through his cold eyes.

 

A half an hour later when I pass the dining room I can see Simon Snow through the open door. My life: stalking my roommate from a corridor, too anxious to even step in. He is surrounded with group of his followers, the main one is Penelope Bunce. She is in the head of _them_ sitting just on his right side, watching how he is stuffing himself with greasy food with an admiration that only Snow can bring in people.

Let us be clear here for a moment: it is not him they admire, it is his magic, they just hang around to have a gulp of it in some way. How sick are these people. How sick am I, watching them watching him. I walk pass them just to grab a cup of coffee: any food will make me throw up right now. It isn't true that I don't care about people: I care enough to know that I can't spend another fucking minute in front of them.

I arrive to my first class a half an hour early, the classroom is empty, so I just spent the rest of time sitting alone, sipping my coffee and reading a book.

The life of Basilton Tyrannus Pitch in its glory.


	2. The Fight

My first lesson went mostly ok. The teacher's voice was so monotone that it put me in some kind of mental coma, where I almost forgot about the Mage’s Heirs existence.

But it is Tuesday and I have second lesson together with Snow. And like every Tuesday there is a row of things that drives me crazy; his back looming in front of me; the way he puts a hand through his hair, struggling to answer teacher’s question and of course that ugly habit of his, when he chews his pen cap trying to think (as if it might help - how stupid).

And don’t make me mention all those times when his homework wasn't ready because he was saving fucking universe or whatever.

Magic Law is the only class we share this year and I have a maniac satisfaction of having my homework done _perfectly_ every time. Like for example right now I know the exact answer to a question that Snow is tortured with. I mean, if only this idiot had opened his textbook for fucking five minutes he would have known at least something.

I raise my hand as if I want to help, but really, I just want to piss him off. The teacher nods as I give the correct answer in my lazy tone and then as I sit down I say in a quiet voice to his back “Well this just proves you’re just as stupid as I originally thought you were."

The lesson ends and when I walk out, I see him in a corridor, leaning on a wall, looking at me. There is some some of his followers around him _already_.

"Baz." He throws at me as I pass.

"Snow, it is so sweet that you are waiting for me like we are best friends. But what the fuck do you want?" I raise my brow giving him a look.

"You haven’t answered my question this morning." He clears his throat. "Does your father know that you are a vampire?"

I roll my eyes. Like a massive eye roll. "Really, is it that best you can come up with? If you wanna start a fucking fight, just start a fucking fight. But please don't bore me with your stupidity."

I see his face flamed with anger. Have I picked the right words? (I know I did, it’s easy with Snow).

I quickly take few steps back pulling my wand out. Weirdly it all feels like an old written scenario except that we are not kids anymore. We haven’t had a real fight for a few years, we mostly just try and ignore each other. Anyway now we are too powerful to fight in a school corridor in front of everyone. At least he _is_. As for me, why do I need this anyway on a day that I have the _spell_ and I am ready to finish it once and for all.

I slowly move backwards pointing my wand in front of me while Snow pulls out his sword (he doesn't use his wand lately at all). The crowd makes an "oooh" sound, like everyone is paralyzed with the way he looks holding it, with a charm of his magic that starts to pour out from him in hot short waves.

"What a show, Snow." I narrow my eyes.

_Now_ I am really pissed off and I am starting to consider a fight for real. Fuck the world, fuck _everything_ just for the sake of making him cry and beg in front of everybody. Yes, I don't have a sword, but I am a real magician, I can do real spells, I can use my brain for Crowley's sake.

_Just be the best possible version of Baz. Go._

I cast the first spell, but it breaks on his sword. Fuck.

He takes few steps towards me whilst his magic forms some kind of sphere around him, which is invisible but everybody around including me can _feel_ it. It is formed from his anger and power and it’s obvious all my spells just can't pass through.

I have this sudden horrifying realization: _I am not good enough_. I can't beat him, nobody can. Which makes him a perfect weapon in the Mage’s hands. Which makes Aunt Fiona right: we have to stop _them_.

Desperately I try to cast some dark spells, that have been passed through generations in my family (they are not _that_ dark, though they will never teach you them in Watford nowadays). These spells are quite hard and everything has its price. Casting them leaves me dry inside, pulling everything out of me, I breath heavily and feel dizzy. But still it’s all the same, they are totally useless.

I see Snow raising his brow as he can't believe that I even considered using those spells against him. Bet he doesn’t even know how hard they are. Or maybe he does, because at some point he lowers his sword, as if I look that totally helpless.

There are giggles and whistles in a crowd which light a smile on his face. This smile gives me the last push for a last desperate try.

**_"Defeat yourself!"_ ** I shout, but nothing really comes out from me, instead I feel myself empty, as not only magical power has left me, but as if all life energy has been sucked out from me into space. It feels terrible, I fall onto all fours, taking large gulps of air with an open mouth.

Just don't faint, don't fucking _faint_. I can hear crowd starts laughing around me and then I see his feet as he takes step towards me. The thoughts jump in my head, but I can't really concentrate. I can't even raise my head. I just see his dirty old trainers coming closer and closer.

When he squats near me there is no sword in his hands anymore.

"Are you alright?" He puts his hand on my shoulder.

Crowley, he actually _touches_ me. I can't believe that through all the dizziness his hand feels like a _warm_ touch, like he throws me a rope and pulls me back to the real world from a world of pain and sickness. I raise my head and catch a tiny glimpse of his eyes (are they kind and worried or am I hallucinating?) before he looks away and withdraws his hand in almost the same moment.

And then I remember the thing about the real world: it sucks.

Because who am I kidding, he did everything just for the show, just to demonstrate what a perfect main character he is, just to gain even more fucking followers. And I am still the one who is kneel on all fours, the one who lost again.

"Fuck you." I strain through my teeth, as I clench my jaw trying not to cry. I use the nearest wall to slowly bring myself up, I am shaking. Everybody is still staring, but mostly they stare at him, the Mage’s Heir, the golden god in all his beauty and kindness.

I anticipate he will say something fake like "are you alright" again, but he doesn't. He gives me one last look, turns his back and walks away.

 

 

 

I wish I could say that I ran to my room after that, but it felt more like crawling. I had to make a stop every few minutes and the idea of simply dropping down on a the ground didn’t seem like such an embarrassment anymore.

I mean after all the things I’ve been through nothing would seem like an embarrassment anymore.

It feels like infinity when I finally turn the knob of the door to my room. I fall on a bed and for few minutes there is nothing except the feeling that I finally made it. I turn onto my stomach putting my face deep into a pillow trying to think about nothing at all. And then I have this sudden feeling that something is wrong.

Shit! I am laying on Snow’s bed!

How exhausted must one be to mix up his own fucking bed with the bed of his worst enemy. Quick note: I still can’t force myself get up.

It doesn’t matter anyway because Snow has lessons ahead, so he won’t be here anytime soon. Though this excuse is still not good enough for me to continue to hug his fucking pillow.

I feel something underneath my head and I slowly pull out a piece of paper. A quick debate with my other self about the ethical and moral aspects of lying in someone else's bed and reading someone else’s notes hidden under their pillow ends with quick surrender, because who cares about morality in the time of _war_. I slide the note out (is all crumpled) and read what it says:

_“My Love, can’t stop thinking about you. Please meet me today at 10pm on our spot in a Wavering Wood. Or I would die.”_

Merlin’s beard, what is _it_. The note is not signed, but due to its sentimental stupidity it must be Wellbelove’s masterpiece. I crumple it back up again, maybe with a bit of too much enthusiasm (wish I could tear it up though) and put it back under the pillow.

I jump up from Snow’s bed as if it’s some kind of cursed place. What the fuck. Are they back together again? Why would anyone ever setup a meeting in the Wavering Wood at night? The only logical explanation includes sexual intercourse, but I really don't wanna think about that. But.

Have they _already_ had sex?

I have this theory, that they had. So yeah, they had sex and then probably Wellbelove broke up with him. Because having sex with Snow must be _that disgusting._ I mean if he acts as a lover the same way as he acts as a human being it must be a fucking nightmare, like he probably doesn't even take his socks off.

On the other hand, a late night meeting in the Wavering Wood might be a perfect place for me to cast Snow with the _spell._ If only I wasn't so exhausted.

Theoretically few things might help me to restore my magic: sleep, some food and a good old catacombs rats hunting. Although I know that I can sneak some energy bars that Snow hides under his mattress (what an animal, right), but I rather fall asleep hungry than go anywhere near his fucking bed ever again.

The last thing that I see before falling asleep are his eyes, worried and blue, but I decide that the look he gave me was all fake, like everything else about him.


	3. The Blazer

I wake up from a nightmare, where Snow’s following me into the woods where I have a date with Agatha. And then he casts _the_ _spell_ and I fall on the ground and I can't breathe again. And everyone is laughing around me and Snow goes to Agatha and puts his hand on _her_ shoulder and asks if _she_ is alright.

I open my eyes and wonder how long have I slept because it's almost evening and the sun is setting. The crimson light gives everything around me a baby pinkish highlight. But I am still the same dark spot, tired and helpless, feeling as though I am almost a million years old.

As I turn my head I notice a sandwich on the table near my bed and a cup of cocoa.

Don't tell that Snow brought _me_ fucking food. That's ridiculous. A million things are much more possible than that, like alien’s invasion for example. And yet, here it is.

I take a few bites and then throw it in the trash along with the drink. That's where I see him and his guilt. Also, I _hate_ cocoa.

I still have a couple of hours to hunt in the catacombs before Snow’s rendezvous in the Wavering Wood. It seems like magic starts to reappear in me again. And after blood from few rats there will be much more magic, hopefully there will be enough for _the spell_.

As I hunt I remember what Aunt Fiona told me. “Be careful,” she said. “Use _the spell_ only if you are completely sure, because it might be our only chance.” I nod to myself, though it was so stupid to give up all my magic in the useless morning fight. But then again this moron left me no choice.

I return to our room at half ten. Snow is already in his bed pretending that he is sleeping. The room smells like school soap and I wonder if he took a shower in preparation for his date.

_Crowley, is he really about to have sex with Wellbelove?_

I pretend that I am going to bed just to see him sneak out about ten. Not only has he taken a late night shower, he has also have put his favourite blue blazer on, the one that he only wears on weekends (god, I know too much about him). And I feel my heart shrinking, this fucking blazer thing destroys me.

I hate perfect couples not only because I know that I can never be a part of one, but because the image of their clean, sterilized relationship disgusts me. Snow and Wellbelove together are so fake, I mean they are like some TV couple, always smiling and with a perfect hair. At least Agatha’s hair is perfect, Snow’s hair is always a mess.

I drop back to let Snow go in front of me, as I follow him into the wood by the wisps of magic that he leaves behind. They are full of his excitement, Crowley he must be _so_ happy. For Snow magic and feelings are always tightly bound. Anger, joy, love: he has it all.

Not like me, I have only hate. And emptiness. Though I doubt that emptiness is even a feeling.

He stops and all I can see are two silhouettes close to each other somewhere behind the trees having a silent conversation. It’s sounds more like a whisper. Should I give him and Wellbelove few moments of happiness? I stay still while sounds of a whisper transforms to sighs and moans.

Crowley, I don’t really wanna catch him having sex, do I?

I quickly take few steps closer and light a fire. First thing I see is Snow’s terrified face, his eyes huge with the reflection of fire in them, and the same second I understand that it's not Wellbelove he is holding hands with, it’s not even a girl, it's some _other boy_.

Snow snogging another _boy_.

The universe ends that very moment. Someone turns off all the light inside of me. And then there is complete darkness. Where nothing good could ever happen.

I slowly take the wand out and point it to the other boy: “You. Get out. _Now_.”

I know him. It's Danny the Snail as I call him, because of how awfully sticky and annoying he is. Or Handsome Danny, as others call him. One of Snow’s followers, always hanging around, with big silly eyes full of admiration. I can't believe Snow picked _him_.

“No, Danny, don't listen, stay.” Snow mumbles, but it's too late. Danny disappears. To hell with _Danny_.

Now it’s only me pointing my wand at him.

“Take your sword out.” I demand in a low voice (I have almost no voice left). But he just freezes. His mouth is open and he takes large gulps of air. One. Two. Three.

“You don't get it.” He says somewhere to his feet.

“Take your fucking sword out!” I almost scream, just to block his voice in my head.

“I have nobody. People around me just exist in some other dimension. Sometimes I wish that I could feel at least something with somebody for a brief moment.” He speaks very fast and his voice breaks somewhere in the middle, making the whole speech sound like some kind of a confession.

He must really be that stupid, standing right here right now, trying to give me an _explanation_. Of that. Of that thing that he just did.

“I don't care _who_ you are snogging with. I don't care _why_. I am only here to fight.”

He stays silent for a while still looking down. For a quick moment I want him to look up, I dare him, but I bet he hasn't even heard what I’ve just said.

“I am so lonely.” He squeezes out, like that's an _excuse_. Like this Golden Boy might know anything about loneliness at all. I see him surrounded by his followers every day, with every single one of them ready to take his hand and go everywhere with him. Always.

“So...Is it what you said to _him_? Is it what you say to people, you know, before dragging them up here?” He quickly looks up, just in time to see me smirking.

His cheeks immediately blush a furious red and then there is a dark spark in his eyes. Crowley, I think, I can never take away his misery, but at least I can make him mad.

And then it starts. The way it always starts with Snow, the way it almost started this morning. Suddenly there is this huge power gathering inside him, it starts to pulse and raise and overtake.

“Stop _that_! Fight with me!” I shout, but he can't hear me at all.

There is a hurricane that forms around him. The funnel of magic which sucks a world inside. He goes _off_ for real. Nuclear Bomb Alert _real_.

And I do the only thing I could do, I run. I run towards the centre of this crazy magic hurricane, in the very heart of which there is still this an angry, scared, embarrassed boy.

I push him down and cover his body with mine.

I don't know who am I trying to protect: the world from him, or is it the other way around?

He is hot, he is burning and his uncontrolled magic hurts me so bad. But I just pull him closer, feeling his body in my hands like a broken instrument making all the wrong sounds.

And then gradually the hurricane stops and as the last waves of his magic disappear in the air I can hear him sobbing.

Have I just saved the world? Have I just saved _him_?

The ground under me is cold and hard but it's hardly noticeable over the fact that we are both alive and he is squeezing my hand and his warm breath burns my neck. And also, there is the way that he smells: like ashes, school soap and _home_.

“Are you alright?” I ask in a low voice.

“Not _yet_.” He mumbles under my ear and once again the air in that area burns.

I nod, pulling him closer, but at the same time I can't stop thinking with my twisted mind. About the fact that I am the substitute for the _other one_ and that's _him_ who has to be here. _Him_ who has to squeeze Snow’s hand and freeze with admiration beside him.

And I can never be that, because of who I am. The enemy, the villain, the _wrong_ boy.

“I haven't dragged him here.” Snow says and I know for a fact that it's true, because I remember the note that I found, but also I remember the blazer and how happy his magic felt.

“It doesn't matter.” I hear myself say as I withdraw my hands and sit up.

“Why? Why it doesn't matter?” Snow sits up as well and now there is dark cold space between us. Just the way it always has been.

Because I have to kill you, you idiot.

Because I _always_ have to kill you. Because holding you felt too good and real.

I grab my wand and point it at him once again. It almost touches his chest.

“Go away! Go!” I groan. But it doesn't work on him the way it works on anybody else.

He takes my shaking hand by the wrist and slightly pulls it away, looking me in the eyes.

“Baz, don't do that. Stop.” He says and the electricity wave goes through my body as I hear him saying my name.

“I won't leave.” He still holds my wrist and then he pulls me closer, till his face is almost next to mine.

I close my eyes and make one last move till my lips touches his. The kiss only lasts for few seconds, because I can't let myself be drawn in. I need just this tiny little memory to keep. Something to remember, if it all ends.

_When_ it all ends, I correct myself. Before I jump up and run away.

  



	4. Chimera

After Baz ran away I didn’t know if I should follow him or not. What if he would got into some kind of trouble? But then again, since when do I care? He almost made me go off, and then saved me, and then kissed me. Well, maybe since then.

Even though it lasted only few seconds, the fact still remains. _He_ kissed _me_. My worst enemy. _Baz_. Maybe he doesn't hate me that much after all?

But then he ran away, I remind myself. Something must be wrong with me, because that eventually happens to everyone. People always leave. The reason must be quite obvious - it’s me, my inability to connect with anyone, ever. Just like the Mage keeps telling me. I am broken, broken and wrong.

I sigh and slowly stand up. I don't even remember why I was so excited to go here tonight. I guess I had this vision that maybe for a tiny moment I can actually be like everybody else: happy, just for a little while. With somebody who cares about me. Don’t get me wrong, it's never about me being alone (because I never really am), more about not feeling _lonely_ just for one night.

And then Baz ruined everything just like he always does. He stormed into me, Danny disappeared and I completely broke down in front of him. And now it's all over and only the darkness of the Wavering Wood hangs in front of me.

I hear weird sounds all around me, which makes me realize very clearly that I am trapped in the middle of nowhere, having only the dark night by my side. But funny, the moment I hear some roaring from the side where Baz ran my thoughts shift to his safety, not mine.

I storm towards the sounds, feeling my heart skipping as it beats. It took me few minutes to get to a place and I can see Baz, pointing his wand at some huge creature hovering above him in the air. Enormous wings, tail. A distant word pops into my head. _Chimera_.

“Baz!” I shout, while I run closer to him.

He turns his head, notices me, looks at a sword in my hands and frowns.

“Idiot!” He shouts back. “Can’t you see it's Chimera!”

“So?”

“So, your stupid sword won't help.” He looks so irritated. Like I _already_ don't know that he thinks I am stupid.

“Why?” I ask.

“Crowley, you really don't remember anything they teach us, do you?” I can't believe Baz just stands there giving me a _speech_ , while he is actually being attacked by huge deadly dangerous beast. That makes me grin a little bit. Like deep inside, while outside I give him an angry look, that can be interpreted mostly like “Do you really wanna play a smart ass, when there is a fucking chimera hanging above us.”

“It's not _materialistic_.” He explains, using that tone that he usually uses in the classroom. “Do you know what materialistic, means, right?”

I roll my eyes.

“ _Yes_.”

“So quit showing off and hide your damn sword. It won't help anyway.”

I really want to hit him at this point, but I just hide my sword instead.

“Why can't you cast a spell then?”

“Why can't _you_ cast a spell, if you think that is so easy?”

“You know I am not good with spells.”

“I am not good with spells today _either_.”

There is a bitterness in his voice and I remember our fight this morning. He looked so exhausted and weak back then. I really wish we didn't have that.

“Sorry.” I say.

“You being sorry won't help us fight the fucking chimera.”

“But maybe this will.” I take few steps and put my hands on his shoulders.

I close my eyes and imaging _pushing_ a bit of my magic in him. Baz shudders under my hands, but he _accepts_. The magic flows into him, like he is an empty vessel and I am filling him with myself. The thrill of sharing is so overwhelming that for a moment I almost lose my mind. It's like walking inside another person’s body, actually _being_ inside of him.

I don't know if it's the same for him, I just see how his mouth tightens, and he widens his shoulders, pointing his wand up. His hand doesn't shake anymore.

Baz casts a spell, a complicated one with many verses. I know that it’s him, who shouts the words, but at the same time it feels like we are casting it _together_. Through rhymes pulsing in my ears I can feel what he feels: a bit of fear, concentration and _wonder_.

We are like one thing tied together by the flow of magic between us. We are heroes, we are soulmates, we are fucking _unstoppable_.

The moment the Chimera disappears, casted away by _our_ spell (everything is _ours_ now) Baz turns and looks at me, like it’s the first time he sees me for real.

“What. Was. That.” His voice sounds in my head, but I am not even sure that he says actual words. Maybe I just can read what's on his mind through his big wondering eyes.

“You mean, what _is this_?” I smile and push a bit of my magic inside him again. We are not in danger anymore, but I need to feel it at least one more time. Just to be sure that it was not just my imagination.

His eyes widens, but he says only one word.

“ _More_.”

I slide my hands down, taking both of his hands in mine, letting it flow through us. Because who am I to fight _this_. Instead I let it draw us away. In a moment I realise that not only our hands are touching, but his whole body is next to mine.

My hand is pulling him closer, while the other one slides over his chest. I can feel his heartbeat just before my lips touch his and then I can't feel anything else anymore. The whole contact transforms to a wild make-out, where our breath melts inside _our_ magic.

“Take this fucking thing off.” Baz groans unzipping my blazer and throwing it away on the ground. “I hate it.”

I grin.

“And I hate your shirt.” I go to his collar and slowly unbutton the first two buttons, but he stops my hand and pushes me against a tree. He gives me a heavy look, with some message behind his eyes that I can’t yet read. The stare lasts while his chests goes up and down with an unsteady breath.

I put my hand back on his neck, leaning him closer. Giving him another kiss, which makes him groan, and then coming out with a hard response. I feel a bite on my lower lip, that makes the twitching feeling in my stomach go hot to a point when it's almost unbearable.

Suddenly he pushes my shoulders with both his hands, taking a step away.

“It can’t be happening.” His face tenses and he moves his head in denial. “You can’t… Take your magic back.”

He reaches his hand forward, which I take unable to concentrate enough to say something useful in response.

“I am not who you think I am. Take it all back. While it’s not too late.” Suddenly his face twitches with pain.

“I won’t. I can’t. It’s all ok, I trust...” I start, but he interrupts me putting a hand over my mouth. Again I see an echo of pain in his eyes, but only for a moment before he slides his mouth close to my ear.

“Shut up.” He says placing a hard kiss to my neck, pressing himself so hard to my body that I can’t move. Suddenly he becomes wild, like a man who made a decision and won’t stop. His jaw moves in a rough way when he gives me another kiss.

But after his attempt to stop everything feels different. Before I saw a fire burning in his eyes, but now he doesn’t even look at me. Instead there is only his body that tears me apart with his every move.

There is no space for my action or my decisions. His hands has a steel grip around mine, while he is going lower and lower down my chest to my stomach.

“Don’t move” he groans letting go of my hands, just because he is already on his knees trying to unbuckle my belt.

“ _Stop._ ” I breathe out, catching his hands. Trying to make sense of all of this. “Please.”

He doesn’t look up, just suddenly freezes.

“Don’t you want it anymore?” He asks in a cold voice, the one that gives me goosebumps.

“It’s just… Look at me, please.” But he doesn’t, he just stands up avoiding my eyes. Again.

“Can we please slow down. We have the time, I promise.” I see his face distorted, like I said something painful.

“We are _together_ now.” I continue, even though when he smirks at my words, it is suddenly clear how stupid everything I say sounds.

“This is where you wrong, Snow.” I see him taking a step back. “We are not together.” One more step.

He picks his wand up from the ground.

“But thanks for sharing your magic.” One more smirk flashes over his face, the evil one. The one that gives me a cold reminder about who he is, about who I am. And it all goes back to me: why we had that morning fight, why we hardly ever talk, why we never managed to be friends.

Why I should never have trusted him in a first place.

“Why did you follow me here tonight?” I ask suddenly.

“Yes, Snow, that is the correct question.” Baz points his wand at me and this time I really feel scared. Maybe of the way how cruel and cold his eyes are.

“Isn’t it an irony to be defeated with your own magic.” His voice sounds very confident, as a decision is already made and there is no turning back.

The verses flew from his mouth like a secret creatures, gracefully, evil and dangerous.

_**“My happy ending, my evil world** _

**_I lose it forever_ **

**_While you drop your sword”_ **

Baz shouts and as his spell hits me, one thing sticks in my head while something inside me breaks hard. I am just keep thinking over and over about how _beautiful_ his magic is. Until the moment even this thought disappears and the darkness falls.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks for Apieceofpaper for been my beta :3


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